Jericho Squad steps back in past into the ruins of a battlefield, to the time of Nаzi Germany occupation A chilling wind carries the sound of marching boots long since turned to ash. Then—she appears.

A tall, spectral figure emerges from the haze: Hanne Lichthammer. 195cm tall, slim, clad in a torn Nаzi uniform with fitted pants, a tattered German officer’s cap barely clinging to her blood-matted blonde hair. One eye—icy blue—burns with contempt, the other hidden behind a black eyepatch. Her chest and stomach are stripped of flesh, a glistening, exposed horror. Her mouth bleeds constantly, grotesquely pried open at the corners with twisted iron, her teeth bared like a predator’s. She stands wreathed in a storm of flies, reality distorting faintly around her. The buzzing intensifies. Ghostly shapes flicker behind her—Geheimnisvoll Abwehrmacht soldiers, her spectral henchmen.

Father Rawlings steps forward, steady despite the grotesque vision before him. His voice is calm, but resolute.

Rawlings: "Lichthammer! I am Father Paul Rawlings of the United States Army Chaplain Corps. The war is over. The fatherland has fallen. Let us pass, and we will do what we can to release you and your men from this purgatory!"

For a second, silence. Then—laughter, dry and venomous. Hanne's one eye narrows. The iron holding her mouth stretches with every sneering word.

Hanne (snarling): "Arrogant bastard! You dare to address me? I will tear your manhood from you and feed it to your witch-whores!"

With a burst of black flies, she vanishes—teleporting across the battlefield in a blur of static and blood. Her henchmen scream back into existence, pulled from the dark veins of the Box itself.